


Wonder Lost

by nerdypants



Category: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alice is an artist, Anxiety, Danger, F/F, F/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-05 06:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13381944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdypants/pseuds/nerdypants
Summary: Alice is drawn into a strange and dangerous land, summoned in order to save the people and stop the infamous Queen of Hearts- just as the original Alice was tasked to do so long ago.-A darker take on a classic tale.





	Wonder Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice's dreams distract her into breaking her pattern, leading to a consequence she doesn't know how to handle.

_Creeping through the stone corridor, Alice pulled her guard's cape tighter around her shoulders. A sound behind her caused her to spin around, her sword drawn, but it was only the Dormouse's claws against the floor. She returned her weapon to its sheath, loathe to let go of the odd comforting warmth the blade provided. Her slippers silently brushed the floor and almost caught on a crack, but she paused for a moment and was free._

_The corridor ended, and Alice peered around a corner for guards that might give her away. Seeing none, she kissed the hem of her cape, whispered a spell to pass unseen, and hurried to the right. Her steps were faster now, less cautious. In all her spying, she'd never seen a guard come this way on patrol. A left, a right, and she slowed to a stop before a massive tapestry that covered an entire corridor wall. Familiar designs of red, gold, black, and white ran along the border, and a beautiful tangled tree stretched its branches from end to end. The Hart family tree, with names embroidered in shimmering black on every branch for each deceased member of the family. The magic didn't apply to the living, for obvious reasons. The Queen couldn't risk anyone learning her name while she was still alive, after all._

_To avoid finding familiar names on the tapestry, Alice turned to the opposite wall. The obvious place to put a secret corridor entrance was behind the tapestry, but that would be too easy. Harts were clever. Her eyes scanned the corridor one last time before looking to the Dormouse, who kicked the lowest stone beneath the torch on the wall. She held her breath as the secret door swung in, a current of frigid air curling into her face. A sharp pain in her left foot told her the Dormouse had hooked her claws into her soft leather shoe. The mouse settled onto her foot, and with careful balance, she stepped into the hallway._

_The door swung shut behind her, trapping Alice in the dark. Forcing her breathing to slow, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the pale gold light  of the hall. Luminescent Moonswyrk stone lined the walls in elegant carved patterns. The sight would be beautiful, if not for the pictures finger painted in blood between the stone. Human? Animal? Something else? Alice tried not to look, but her eyes couldn't help but catch on a little painted man hanging from a little painted noose, his signature hat and tufts of hair crudely emphasized in thick, rusty swipes of red. She hardened her heart and hurried on, eyes locked on the door at the end of the hallway and fists clenched into the fabric of her stolen cape._

_The doorknob looked gold, but the texture was wrong. Alice bit her lip against the revulsion pulsing through her as she tried not to think about the gritty stickiness of the dried blood left on her palms. With caution, she opened the door and slipped inside. It took her a moment to realize this room was much warmer than the corridor beyond, and saw that the warmth came from a massive fireplace across the room. Her shoulders lost some of their tension, eager for the heat the fire would provide, but she didn't dare make a sound. Instead of stone, there was  carpet beneath her feet, thick and scarlet like the lipstick ever slashed across the Queen's lips and currently smudged across her own. She fought the urge to draw the back of her hand across her mouth, wipe every trace of the color away, but she couldn't risk leaving a mark in the room and giving herself away._

_She tapped her foot ever-so-gently, and the Dormouse released her hold and crept away to find the key. Alice moved the other way, looking to take in every detail of the chamber. High-backed armchairs and gold-inlaid wooden tables faced the fire. Matching cabinets and a desk were pushed against a wall, and mirrors hung over each of them. The Queen's vanity knew no bounds, it would seem. Alice caught a flash of her own reflection in one mirror, her golden hair catching the light, but she looked away before she had to see the red lipstick or the emptiness of those blue eyes of hers that had gotten her into this mess. More golden Moonswyrk veined every wall but one, which held another mirror and two paintings. No, not paintings._

_Alice's heart stopped._

_A sharp breath in slipped past her lips before a conscious thought could rise, and sheer horror shot through her like lightning. All memory of her mission lost, she turned and gripped the doorknob behind her. Before she could fling open the door, a door behind her creaked open and a chillingly familiar laugh echoed throughout the room._

_"Going so soon? You've made it all this way," the Queen crooned. "Come, Alice. Let me see your face."_

_Unbidden, a memory of the Queen crossed Alice's mind- cool hands circling her wrists. Stifling a sob, she ran from the room and into the piercing cold of the hallway. Her guard's cape billowed behind her, pulling at her neck and making her already gasping lungs scream for air. From this angle, going out, the blood on the walls showed more than mad pictures. The pattern to spelled her name._

_Alice. Alice. Alice. Alice._

_A scream ripped from her throat. Her training flew from her mind, and she crashed into the secret door. The hit of her sword around her waist knocked her hip bone. A curse fell from her lips. She kicked the trigger stone viciously, barely able to hear the Queen's approaching footsteps over the sound of her own heartbeat roaring her name._

_Alice! Alice! Alice! Alice! Alice! Alice! Alice! Alice!_

_She tore through the hallways she knew like the back of her hand, winding down a spiraling staircase and fighting the urge to hurl herself down the cut stone steps. Her own steps pounded, echoing against the narrow walls. She threw herself through a wooden door about halfway down the stair, cutting her bare arm on an uneven patch of the door frame, and had very nearly reached the end of the hallway when a quarter deck of card soldiers, suit Club, turned the corner before her and cut off her path. She spun around to face the way she came, but another quarter deck, suit Spade, blocked her way. Alice drew her sword, at once remembering she still carried it, and charged the Club card soldiers. Each one raised his sword in return, but none had the brains to draw the rectangular shield that each soldier carried across his back. Club soldiers were stupid._

_She bested three soldiers within moments, using their own clumsy attacks against each other, but she heard the door to the staircase open and lost her focus. One soldier's sword cut her face, opening the skin from her cheekbone to just above her eyebrow. Her eye stung, her vision went half red, a salty tang filled her mouth. She spat blood in the soldier's face before running him through with her own blade, feeling the crack of his ribs and the impact of her sword against the shield on his back. She yanked it out and brandished it before her. The soldier's body landed on the others, a morbid pile she'd have to cross over in to keep going. The other soldiers backed away, not retreating but surrendering their right to the fight. Blood freezing in her veins, Alice heard the sound of the base of the Queen's pole ax hitting the floor. Cool fingers pulled the stolen cape from her shoulders, caressed the raised skin of Alice's bare shoulder. The fingers let go._

_"You are a fool, Alice. Off with your head."_

_The sword dropped from her hand, hitting the gray stone floor. There must have been a sound, but she heard nothing at all._

_\- - -_

Alice's pencil dropped from her fingers as two wide hands slammed the front of her desk. On the paper in front of her was a rough sketch of the mouse from her dream- intelligent eyes, long, straight tail, dirty white fur, and a funny tunic cut for her small size. The Dormouse's little feet were only half done, but she could see in her mind the finished picture. The dream had come again last night, same as it had every night for a week. All she could consistently remember were the blurred gray stones, the flicker of torches, and the lasting fear and failure she could never shake. She'd been up since three in the morning trying to distract herself, but it was never far from her mind. This time, the image of the Dormouse had stayed with her, and her tiny figure had begun taking shape beneath Alice's pencil before she'd realized the was sketching.

Her eyes flicked up to the boy standing over her desk. Brice was tall, broad-shouldered, and strong, with curly dark hair and freckles that seemed to move when he grinned, as he did now. She couldn't count the number of times she'd heard about the countless charms of Brice Tadesse from her friend Celia, and while she could understand the appeal, he'd never really sparked the same interest in her. Not that he'd want to, of course. He was the type to date athletic girls, and she was the type to date... well, no boys had really caught her eye yet. Boys were more of Celia's area of expertise.

"That's wicked cool. I didn't know you're an artist! How long did it take to draw? Is it almost done? It looks like some kind of mouse. Why is it wearing clothes?" Wide-eyed and full of energy, Brice used the tip of his finger to spin her sketch around so he could see it right-side up. He considered everyone worthy of receiving his undivided attention, but the thought of sharing her dream made her stomach flip.

"Just an idea," she mumbled, pulling the paper back towards her. Too sloppy- if she kept drawing in class, anyone at all could notice. It was lucky that Brice seemed to be her only witness, and he was too nice to gossip. If the class recognized her art style, words could get out and she'd be caught and-

"Brice!" A loud voice called from the classroom doorway. "Is that a new sweatshirt?"

Alice and Brice both reflexively looked in the direction of the voice. Against the door frame leaned a tall Latina girl with an open smile and perfect eyeliner. Alice shot Celia a grateful look and took the distraction to slip her paper into her backpack.

"Um, yeah," the boy responded, pinching the fabric and pulling it away from him so he could look down on it himself. "My sister sent it from her college."

"It looks soft. Is it soft?" Celia advanced, reaching for the sleeve. "It is! Alice, feel how soft this is."

She obliged, touching the sleeve quickly before slinging her backpack over her shoulder and standing up. "It's really great," she agreed.

"You mind if I steal Alice here? We'll see you later!" chirped Celia before dragging Alice out of the class by her elbow. A surprised farewell followed them out, and Celia flashed a smile over her shoulder.

Once they were safely into the crowded flow of students pushing through the math hallway, she stepped away and nudged her friend teasingly. "Come on, girl. You looked like you were about to combust. What gives?"

Gaze down to avoid those persuasive brown eyes, Alice shrugged vaguely. "Not up for a high energy conversation today, I guess."

"Okay then. Have you seen Eddie's new haircut yet?"

This. This was better. One thing about Celia was, she didn't have much patience for silence or distance. This was usually nice, because Alice's tendency to shrink into herself made her a poor choice for filling the space herself. Alice in turn considered herself a good fit for Celia, because she made a good audience for stories and kept secrets better than anyone she knew. Alice's thoughts today were much too dense for more than fleeting gossip, so Celia really was a blessing. Sighing, she shook her head 'no.'

"You'll be shocked- he shaved his whole 'fro. Isn't that crazy? Here, it's on someone's Snapchat story. I'll have it in a second." Celia held the phone close to her own nose for a moment before shoving it under Alice's.

"Wow! He looks really different."

"Right?!"

Something wasn't right. Celia's hand still pinched on Alice's elbow, and her phone looked too close to her face. "Ce, you're wearing your contacts, aren't you?"

The other girl winced. "Well... no... not really, no."

A sound of complete exasperation left Alice before she could stop it. "What happened?"

"Okay. I didn't lose them, they ran away. Promise."

"Then wear your glasses. Your eyes will just get worse if you do nothing."

Cue Celia's patented dramatic gasp. "Absolutely not. My glasses are the absolute worst, Alice. I'd get that double-look from people, you know, the 'wait, WHAT' fashion disaster look? I'd never have a date again. I'd be too ashamed to get Brice to ask me to prom, and that would ruin months of planning. Months, Alice! I can't let the glasses win now!"

"Find the damn contacts then, Ce. I can't be your seeing-eye dog forever," she teased.

"Maybe I'll get laser surgery."

"You're not 18 until June. Also, that's expensive enough to put college back a year or three."

"Maybe I don't need college."

Alice grinned. "But won't Brice be disappointed if you don't go to MState with him?"

Celia gasped. "He got his letter?"

"Yep. Last night. I heard all about it first period. And second. And I would have heard about it all of seventh, but some angel of mercy possessed Mrs. Jaker not to make seats alphabetical."

Her friend let out a dismayed puff of air. "It sucks I don't have any classes with him this year. You see him so much more than I do, it's no fair."

"Wanna trade schedules? You can get interrogated over absolutely nothing, and I'll sleep through study hall."

"Shit, I wish, A. I'm all about high energy conversations. All he has to do is say the word. Literally any word. I'd make a conversation out of anything. Shoelace. Tangerine. Pencil-"

"Prom?"

"That's the dream."

Alice grinned at her. "You know, Ce, you could just ask him yourself, no long-term winning over necessary. I know you've already picked a tie for him, and your dress."

"And yours."

"I'm not going."

"But-"

"I've got to get to class. Bell rings in one minute."

"Shit. We're SO coming back to this, though. You're not off the hook, missy." Celia pointed a manicured finger at her threateningly and disappeared into her next class. Alice slipped through the door across the hall and barely made it to her seat when the bell rang.

The next few hours passed in a blink, probably because Alice only half paid attention. Most of her focus featured the Dormouse sketch hidden safely in her backpack, and her internal debate of whether she should take it out and finish it or not. If someone saw her, if no one would. Could she let it sit half-done until she got home? That wouldn't be very Alice of her, but it also wasn't very Alice of her to draw at school. Her last drawing was still occasionally brought up by some of the students, and she'd come too far and had published too many to be caught now. Each was a portrait of a different classmate- a sweet redhead with freckles in her first period, the kid that snorts when laughing at a lunch table near hers. There were almost twenty from her four years at Marks River High, all in perfect detail, with that glow of an unseen smile. Her art style was too well known by all the theorists trying to identify the Mystery Artist for her to slip and let anyone recognize her.

It hadn't been her intention originally to become a local mystery- she'd started drawing her freshman year, and had sent one anonymously to the high school's newspaper The Splash hoping that the kid would see and get a little boost of self-esteem or something. It had worked, certainly. The kid had seen it, and so had every other person in the high school. Rumors and theories had started immediately, and Alice had realized that some of the theories were a little too entertaining for her to ever confess to being the artist. But against her better judgement, the next month she sent another picture, and the next, two more. She never drew the same kid twice, and never anyone that knew her name. If anyone even considered her a possibility for the artist, the mystery would be over, and she'd lose her precious ability to fade into the background at school. Everyone would know her name, and if her mother found out she'd gotten this much attention for herself...

The Dormouse sketch ended up staying hidden. Nothing was worth that.

\- - -

Alice sat cross-legged on her bed, the Dormouse drawing sitting on the textbook in her lap. Technically, she had homework, but no real incentive drove her to work on that tonight. The school had just called to cancel school the next day on account of the massive blizzard passing over their area. The snow trapped her mother at her new boyfriend's for the night, and it was Thursday, so she had three more days alone to procrastinate Shakespeare. The Dormouse had all her attention now.

Her pencil brushed over the curve of a claw one more time, and a smile lit her face. Finally, the drawing looked as close to the mouse from her dream as it could get. She held the paper up to the light, proud of herself, and set it on the pillow beside her to grab her phone.

"Shit." She had left it downstairs charging by the kitchen table. Groaning, she made her way down the stairs and up again, phone in hand. When she got to her bed, she reached for the sketch, but the paper wasn't there. Had she brought it downstairs with her on accident? She headed back down the stairs, faster now, and scanned for the paper. It was nowhere to be seen. She went back up and looked all over her bed- under the frame, beneath the cushions, on the floor. Not even a glimpse.

Alice pressed her thumbs to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. She almost never lost things. So where was this sketch? "I just had it," she muttered to herself. "I did. I did. I did." She scanned the room again, to no avail. A frustrated groan escaped her lips. All day she'd spent on that stupid thing, all day, and it just walked away. "Whatever," she muttered spitefully and collapsed on her bed, glaring at her pillow.

She'd barely unlocked her phone when a sound echoed from downstairs. Alice froze, slowly looking in the direction of her bedroom door. She could see down the hallway to the top of the staircase but nothing looked amiss. Even though she knew it probably was nothing, her mind immediately assumed someone was there, down and out of sight. A stranger? A murderer?

Her mother?

Alice shrank back against her wall, mind racing. She'd just been running up and down the stairs, maybe something had gotten off balance when she'd blown past. Mom was snowed in, it couldn't be her. She hated to drive in the snow. Did the boyfriend drive her? Would she even consider asking her boyfriend to drive her?

Alice slowly eased herself off her bed, trying not to make any noise. If someone was in the house, it would be better if she wasn't found. She picked up her phone and quickly set it to silent before tiptoeing to her closet. The door was half open, so she slipped inside and silently shut it behind her. Bracing her back against the closet door, she strained her ears for a second sound. Her mother's footsteps were heavy and even, but she stumbled every few steps when she drank. The newest boyfriend had a kind of shuffle to his step, like he was making sure to walk slower than Mom. Alice didn't hear any footsteps at all, and was beginning to think the sound had been nothing, but just in case, she didn't move from behind the closet door. She opened her phone again, warily, and resigned herself to an hour or two of silent scrolling on social media before she would get up. A few minutes into her scrolling brought her a post of de-stress tips and tricks, and when she tried to breathe along with the counts, her mind quieted enough that she closed her eyes, just for a moment...

\- - -

_Creeping through the stone corridor, Alice pulled her guard's cape tighter around her shoulders..._

\- - -

A light shone in Alice's face, and she scrunched her eyes more tightly shut. Her hair stuck to her forehead, which itched, and at least one strand had found its way into her mouth. Wow, her mouth tasted gross. With a groan, she straightened her legs out, only to hit her foot on a wall.

A wall?

She opened her eyes to see her phone screen lit up inches from her face on the floor. Moaning, she dragged her arm up to her face and rubbed away her sleep. The rough carpet and close walls told her all she needed to know- she'd fallen asleep in her closet again. Slowly, nursing her sore "slept on the floor" muscles, she shifted so she could sit up against the closet door once more and checked to see what phone notifications had woken her up.

 **mom** > **alice**

 **mom** : don't use the oven until I get back

She sighed and opened the text to respond, allowing herself to type out a few sarcastic responses before deleting them all and sending

 **alice** > **mom**

 **alice** : okay

She also had thirteen emails from colleges, two Snapchats, and a text from an unknown number. As the last looked the most interesting, she opened that first.

 **?** > **alice**

 **?** : Hey

Not promising- probably a wrong number. She ignored the text and opened the Snaps from Celia and Brice, responding blandly, before sifting through the college emails for the universities that seemed interesting. Her mind drifted to her dream once again, and the memory of the Dormouse made her smile a bit. Her sketch had been good.

Slowly, she pulled herself off the floor and left her closet. Her first stop was the bathroom, to brush her teeth and get that awful taste out of her mouth. She squinted her eyes at her messy reflection in the mirror, which still wore yesterday's clothes and had hair that could resemble a cartoon broom. She wrinkled her nose for a moment and, now that her breath was fresh, moved on to taming the rest of her appearance. A memory golden hair from the mirror in her dream crossed her mind, and she paused. Why would her unconscious make her a fairy tale blonde? Her dirty blonde had more in common with dust than Cinderella. A text on her phone threw off her train of thought and she checked it, dream forgotten.

 **?** > **alice**

 **?** : Hey, Alice

Not a wrong number, then.

 **?** > **alice**

 **alice** : sorry, who is this?

 **?** : ;)

 **?** : You're the artist, right?

 **alice** : excuse me?

 **?** : I don't know why I'm asking, I know you are. Can I ask a quick question?

She didn't respond. No. No no nononononononononono-

 **?** > **alice**

 **?** : Why don't you tell anyone it's you? You're really good.

 **?** : Getting tired of no answer. Listen, I won't tell anyone it's you for now.

 **?** : But I do want to talk to you. A commission, you know? To draw my friend for her birthday, two weeks from now.

 **?** : I really like your style. I'll pay you for it.

 **?** : In general, commissions cost what, $30? I'll give you $50 for it.

 **?** : You don't have to decide now. Just let me know in enough time to get it done.

 **?** : And if you don't, who knows, maybe I'll spill after all.

 **?** : Hope to hear from you soon.

This could NOT be happening. This didn't happen to real people. This happened to spies and celebrities and people who took naughty pictures. This didn't happen to her. _Shit_. She couldn't do the sketch for the person. It probably wasn't even real, just a trick to get her to confess. But why the hell would it matter so much to someone that they'd do something like this? And why would they do it for a stupid birthday present, if the commission existed? Why would they offer to pay her? This was crazy. She didn't have a good option. Alice knew how her mom would react to something like this.

How could she find the person that messaged her? Maybe she could figure out how they'd found her.

 _Damn_ it.

She'd been so, so careful, and then today she'd just blown it with the stupid Dormouse that anyone could have seen her working on today and everyone was going to find out about her and word would make it to her mother, and Alice's ribs were still tender with reminders from the last time her mother had been displeased.

Breathing. She had to remember to breathe.

In.

Alice realized her eyes were squeezed shut, so she opened them.

Out.

She found herself sitting on the floor against a wall.

In.

It was the second time that morning. Maybe she should invest in a college with narrow hallways.

Out.

That way, there would always be a wall to catch her.

In.

She wished she didn't need to be caught.

Out.

This felt pathetic. Pathetic now, pathetic later. If she went to college, she wouldn't last the year.

In.

If she didn't go to college, she wouldn't last the month.

Out.

Shuddering, Alice pushed herself to her feet. Not today, not today, not today. Thank goodness for snow days. Her grades couldn't survive another school day with this mindset. She pushed everything down, swallowed it like a big lump of peanut butter, pressed her lips together until her lungs could hold air on their own.

Her phone was still sitting there on the bathroom counter. Dreamlike, she watched herself pick it up and send her answer.

 **alice** > **?**

 **alice** : When do you want me to meet you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I'm really excited for this one. Don't worry, Wonderland and magic will show up soon :) Special thanks to Maya for prereading and being great


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